Chapter Five
Carina
There was something about his voice that set Jackson apart. Every time he joined me in game, my number of female viewers in chat skyrocketed. After a couple of weeks of playing together, even one of my girlfriends, Kimmie, sent me a private message just to swoon over how deep and gravelly he sounded over the mic. Imagining his sun-bleached hair and deep set eyes looking down at me and talking in his “sexier than a Rockstar” voice just about had me undone, and I hadn’t even met the guy face to face. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell him that.
Every time someone suggested that with his gaming skills and that amazing, shale-dipped-in-chocolate voice, he should stream, he changed the subject, or went quiet. He obviously wasn’t interested in that, but he handled the guys like a professional diplomat and I got a ton of messages from people encouraging me to keep him around, because they liked his sense of humor and modesty. They even thought that a home on the range kind of stream might be fun. That was, if we still liked each other in person.
My stomach felt tight and knotty thinking about what I would do if I did stop liking him when we met, or worse, if I didn’t, but he decided I was just some dumb skinny bitch who’d got lucky and been “discovered” in a shopping mall one day on a trip into Tulsa.
I ended my stream a full hour early one afternoon, after asking Jackson if he’d like to spend a little time playing as just the two of us. From a couple thousand miles away, it was about as close to asking him in for coffee as I was going to get. He made me laugh a hundred times over stupid things, and we played until after midnight again. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed gaming that much and, even better, I was ignoring every message and invitation that scrolled up my computer screen as we played.
It was getting late and we were getting to the end of our run when, suddenly, he dropped me and stopped talking. I checked the Ventrilo room we were in and he was gone, but still in game. After a few tries at asking him where he’d gone, he said a friend had asked him to help her with something, and then he stopped responding. I replied with a few choice phrases that would make my grandmother turn in her grave, and logged off. It had been a long time since anyone had ditched me for another girl and, in that moment, I figured that was all I needed to know about Jackson Hargrave.
I didn’t go so far as to delete him from my phone, but I logged into my stream to ban him there, and went to bed feeling irritable and hurt, but mildly pleased with myself for at least removing his voice from my stream. Stiles the cat cuddled up under my blanket and I watched a couple of YouTube videos fans had uploaded for me on my phone. I made sure I liked them and thanked the fans for taking the time to immortalize my cosplay win, and I fell asleep with my phone still in my hand.
The darn thing started vibrating and woke me up before six the next morning and I scrolled through texts from Jackson, a series of questions that from their time stamps had taken close to an hour for him to send, but to my dry-eyed, caffeine-less morning brain, felt like I was being jack-hammered with meaningless drivel from an idiot who hadn’t realized how good he had it. I viciously hoped that he’d spent the night worrying that I would never speak to him again, turned off my phone, and plugged it in, since sleeping with it had left me with almost no juice.
I made myself a boring, skinny-girl breakfast of egg whites and cantaloupe, and brewed a strong pot of coffee. I rushed through a yoga routine and eventually gave up. I was still pissed that I’d finally found a guy I liked and he had immediately turned out to be a jerk. I ended up lying flat on my back in the corpse position, with Stiles bumping me with his forehead and purring in a passive aggressive attempt to remind me to feed him. One deep, self-pitying sigh turned into two and, after a few moments, I was breathing deep and even with Stiles purring against the top of my head. I was quickly losing my irritation to my sweet, adopted fur-baby’s ministrations.
I cracked open Stile’s favorite cat food and infused my morning with blessed caffeine before settling in to check emails, beg for work, and budget my winnings so I could afford more costume materials.
My phone was vibrating hard enough that it was shaking itself right off the table next to my pull-out bed when I was cleaning up, but it was Jackson again, and I felt my irritation creeping back. I answered tersely, even more frustrated when he talked right over me, as though he couldn’t understand me being upset at all.
“Look, Jackson, I don’t care who you hang out with. We don’t even know each other. But, if a chick said they had time to give you, then bailed in the middle of it because some random guy had asked them to go hang out, you’d feel pretty damn insulted too. I mean, God, are you twelve? I would have happily helped out too, being personable and good at games is, well, kind of my job, you know?” He didn’t answer right away, and if I hadn’t heard him sigh, I would’ve thought he’d hung up. I took a deep breath, then another, trying to find that calm again.
“Look, C.J., I wasn’t trying to insult you…” Jackson began, but I didn’t want to hear any excuses.
“Look. If that’s the kind of person you are, I just don’t have time for it. I’m not some pathetic little bitch who has to sit around and wait for socially handicapped men to show her a little attention.” I cuddled Stiles and tried to ignore the disappointment in my gut. “I like you, Jackson, you can be really fun to talk to. I wish you the best, but I don’t have time in my life for friends who don’t remember that I’m a person and I have feelings. Bye, Jackson.” I hung up and threw the phone against the sofa. I felt dirty and a little used. God, was I glad I’d only sent him a picture of my elbow.
I looked around my apartment. I had two choices to work off my funk. I could clean, or I could play computer games. Obviously, I opted for the later. What was the point of being young and broke if you couldn’t live in a sty and ignore the squalor around you?
My computer went on, my hair went in a ponytail, and Stiles the cat curled up in his favorite spot, on my toes, right next to the nice, warm computer tower. Once I was in my favorite game, I noticed my in-game mailbox was full. When I checked, there were several messages from Jackson, including little in game tokens, which I promptly took. The messages were like tweets, limited to a little over one hundred characters, so his apology took several separate messages. I screen saved each one, then pasted them together in a word document that read:
“I know you think I’m an idiot. I hang out with a lot of girls, who are just friends, and I’ve never been interested in them the way I am in you. When I left group, it wasn’t for her, but for our friend who’s leaving for a deployment. She was hanging out with him one last time and asked for help with a stupid world boss. I should’ve just told you what I was doing. I didn’t know who had been invited, or if there was room for one more. So, you’re right. I was stupid. Next time, if you let there be a next time, I’ll handle it differently. I’m sorry. I spent all my fake, in-game gold on a bunch of really fake-expensive, in-game gifts so you won’t hate me. PS: I really like your elbow.”
The message made me smile, and I finally sent a thank you message in reply. I unblocked his character in-game and stayed on to play a little while longer with an eye out for him , just in case he made an appearance. I felt stupid for making a big deal out of getting ditched in a make-believe world while playing pretend online. Maybe I’d been a streamer too long. Or maybe I really was the attention whore my detractors liked to call me. Either way, I had to figure out a way to apologize for being too sensitive and get back on track as a professional.
I unbanned him from the stream site, with my fingers crossed that no one had noticed and there wouldn’t be ugliness from my fans, most of whom were a little crazy in the keyboard warrior department. I didn’t text him, even though it was killing me not to. When I looked at the empty monitor of my second computer, I was staring at the eyes of a jealous woman. I was all green-eyed monster over a man I didn’t know, who had a sexy voice, and from his pictures, had a rocking body to match. He didn’t need to chase me like the other gamer nerds did. He was probably the one used to being chased.
It was crazy to me how much I wanted this particular guy to like me, and how important it was that he not know that. But, I told myself, it didn’t matter. I was putting on makeup only to make myself feel better after being offended the night before. My clothes matched just because I wanted to show the stream how professional I was, not to show off for a guy I didn’t even know.
Just as the stream was about to start, I looked over at my phone. On it was a message. “Pizza is on the way. It’s paid for, just don’t get too crazy with the tip.” It was from Jackson, and I had to smile. There was no point in being angry with him. He was just a hot guy who never had to think about anyone but himself. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be fun as hell, and I wasn’t looking for love anyway.
I switched the camera on and turned the wait music down. I scanned the names in chat real quick before I started, and grinned as I saw Jackson’s name at the very top of the list. There was no reason why he and I couldn’t just enjoy each other’s company without expectations. He was sexy and fun, and, when I had his attention, it felt amazing. I schooled my face into one less resembling a lust-crazed high schooler, and greeted my audience. I had the beginnings of a plan and, if it worked out, there was a lot of fun in store for me, and Jackson too.